If You Were I: John
by RavenWriter89
Summary: A blonde, an explosion, and a leather jacket.
1. Chapter 1

_About a year a ago, I was given a prompt about the Doctor being the companion and the companion being the Doctor. I wrote a short scene, then decided it needed to be fleshed out. Here is the result._

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><p>Most people would be concerned if their workplace blew up. I wasn't.<p>

Most people would be happy to be dragged off by an insane yet beautiful blonde. I wasn't.

Most people would also never get a chance to move beyond their 9-to-5 lifestyles. I did.

15 years of training, experience, and hard work, and all I managed was to get Chief Electrician printed above my name at Harrods. Usually I worked after the store had closed, so as not to disturb customers looking for the latest celebrity fragrance, but sometimes plugs didn't wait to short out.

Perhaps if the new kid hadn't grabbed the wrong wire, shocked himself silly, and then sat sweating over a burned thumb while informing us he didn't have health coverage, I wouldn't have been in my office still filling out paperwork looking for loopholes about foreign workers when I heard it.

It was a scuffling sound, like someone searching through a rack of clothes. My office was right by the Employees Only exit, so I knew the custodial staff had already left. I tensed, hesitated, and finally headed towards it with my mobile in my hand. I debated turning on the lights but didn't want to spook whoever it was. Maybe it was a crazy junkie or something; although what they would be doing in Harrods I had no idea.

On the other hand, maybe I did want to spook them. They might just run off scared with no harm done. So I flicked on the main switch. As I blinked away spots, I caught movement of someone ducking behind a cashier's desk. I gripped my mobile tighter and walked towards it.

I wasn't sure what to do. Should I call out? Stay quiet? Phone the police? I was no security guard. "Um," I started, and instantly changed my mind about that plan. I needed to sound tough, authoritative, and 'um' was no way to start.

I walked towards the cashier's desk near the centre of the department, carefully avoiding the clothes racks and mannequins scattered around. I rounded the corner of the desk and blinked at what I saw.

A young woman was crouched on the ground with one hand reaching underneath the register and pulling at wires. When she saw me she froze, and we stared at each other.

"Hey," I tried to say in an accusing voice.

"This isn't what it looks like," she said, hand still beneath the register.

Her response came a little too soon in the script I had formed in my mind, but I continued anyway. "I know exactly what you're doing," I said. "You snuck in here and hid until the store closed, and plan to fill your pockets with as much stuff as you can carry. You should know that the police are on their way as we speak to lock you up." I even waggled my mobile at her.

She looked from my face to the mobile. "Very little of the statement makes sense," she said. "Once the store is closed, how would I get out? I'd still have to walk past the security device detector things the next morning, and if you already called the police, why risk coming out here to tell me?"

I took a beat too long in answering. "Stand up!" I said. "Empty your pockets! Let me see what you've taken."

She stood and smiled at me. I'd never had occasion the use the term 'disarming' to describe a smile, but I could think of no other word for it. It wasn't a threatening smile, nor a sheepish one. It was warm and inviting, in the way that an old schoolmate would look when planning a prank.

"I'm no common thief after some jewellery," she said. "I'm here with a much more important purpose."

"What's that?"

She reached in her jacket pocket and pulled out a square-ish tangle of wires. "I'm blowing this place up." She was still smiling.

Suddenly I wished I really had called the police. "What are you, some kind of activist or something?"

She laughed. "I guess so. An activist of life, for life. It's a fault of mine." Her eyes darted behind me and I glanced in the same direction.

Even as I turned my head I cursed my stupidity. It was a ruse to distract me, and I was very likely going to get a cracked skull for my trouble.

My attention was caught, however. One of the mannequins I walked by earlier had changed position. Its arm was raised and it was turned more fully towards us. As I watched, its other arm came up, and it took a jerky step forward.

"Holy shit," I muttered. "What kind of activists are you?"

Another mannequin began moving, and was joined by a third. I heard whirring and beeping behind me but couldn't stop watching the strange scene. I soon realized that all the dummies in the department were moving toward us.

"You're right, I lied about the police. Let's call this a mistake of youth and we both forget about it. I let you go quietly and you leave. What do you say, huh?" I glanced back to her and saw that the square-ish bomb was blinking rapidly and she was still grinning.

She grabbed my hand. "Run!"

We dashed through door after door until we hit the street, heat and smoke following close on our heels. We kept running until we were beyond the reach of the sirens hurrying towards the explosion. She had let go of me long ago but I kept up with her.

"What's your name?" she asked, hardly winded after our mad sprint.

"John," I said, trying not to pant and failing, "John Tyler."

She laughed. "A man with two first names? That's excellent. 'John, run!' 'Tyler, look out!' It works on so many levels."

"And you? We sort of skipped over the introductions."

"Right! I always forget about those." She stuck out her hand and I shook it a little reluctantly. "I'm called the Doctor."

"Seriously?"

"Among other things less polite."

"Good to meet you," I said. The streetlights gave a strange tint to her blonde hair, and she looked small but athletic. "So, uh, what was that we were running from? Because it looked like..."

"Shop dummies. Plastic shop window dummies that suddenly came to life and started chasing after us. Is that what it looked like?"

Feeling foolish, I answered, "Yes."

"Good. 'Cause that's exactly what it was. Nice coat, by the way."

I automatically glanced down at the leather jacket, smelling slightly charred from the explosion. "Thanks," I muttered. When I looked up she was already walking away down an alley. "Hey, wait!"

She turned but didn't stop walking. "Yeah?"

I caught up to her and matched her pace. I was suddenly at a loss for words. She was a criminal, perhaps a violent terrorist, and I was acting as if I wanted to chat her up for a drink. Which, if she wasn't clearly half-mad, I might have done already. So like an idiot, I said the first thing that came to mind. "Am I going to see you again?"

She smiled at me, and I was willing to forget all that business with the bomb. "If you're very lucky. You won't find anyone else like me. I'm one of a kind."

"I believe that," I murmured.

"No, but really," she said. She stopped walking and stared hard at me, smile gone. "I'm the only one left. I'm the only one who can still feel it." She grabbed my hand again and I jumped at the contact. "Living on this tiny planet with so many other people, how can you stand it? They're all moving so fast, hardly stopping, and they're gone so quickly. All those hearts beating together, ticking away. Some of them are so lonely and they don't even know why. All they want is a hand to hold, and if they let go..." She dropped my hand.

I stood breathless, waiting.

She moved away from me, walking back down the alley. "Look for that hand to hold, John Tyler. Don't forget that." She rounded a corner and by the time I reached it, she was gone.

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><p><em>tbc<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_About a year a ago, I was given a prompt about the Doctor being the companion and the companion being the Doctor. I wrote a short scene, then decided it needed to be fleshed out. Here is the result._

* * *

><p>My indecision regarding the police was a moot point the next morning when two uniforms knocked on my door.<p>

They were polite enough, asking questions about my movements before the explosion and subtly implying that if I had anything to do with it they would find out, despite lack of CCTV, motive, or evidence. I gave them coffee and honest enough answers, saying that I thought I saw a woman fleeing the scene, but few other details.

After they left, I tried watching the news. Rampant speculation about why Harrods was targeted, who was behind it, and if this was a repeat of the recent Tube bombings forced me to turn it off. I picked up my mobile and put it down without dialling. My confusion over why I had protected the woman from the police made me restless and fidgety. She broke in and blew up a major corporation with a bloody homemade bomb; I should have been giving the police every detail possible. Instead I gave a vague description of a blonde woman who could run rather well.

My mind kept reminding me of three very important facts.

The incident took place after everyone was supposed to have gone home, except for stupid old me.

She helped me escape instead of leaving me behind.

She never mentioned any sort of mission or doctrine that could have prompted the attack.

I sat heavily on a chair while toying with a fork. She seemed damn friendly for a terrorist. Weren't they supposed to be anti-social? Wasn't that one of the signs the media always talked about? I decided to finally put it from my mind and start looking for another job when I heard a knock at the door.

I opened it to find brown eyes and a wide smile greeting me. "You!" I said.

"Now, John, don't be so dramatic. I introduced myself last night. I distinctly remember it because it happened so soon after I met you. I'm the Doctor."

"Is that your code name?" I asked.

She blinked. "No. If I was going to have a code name, it'd be something like Geoffrey Pie or Julia Shefftin."

I stared down at her, nearly a head shorter than me. "How did you find me?"

"Don't happen to have any dummies in here, do you?" she said, talking over me. "I mean, besides the one standing in front of me." She laughed at her own joke, but it quickly died when I didn't join her. She cleared her throat and held up a small tool. "I found you with this. It's a scanner, of sorts." She looked expectantly past me into the flat.

"Wait, you think I'm just going to let you walk into my home? You build bombs! You spied on me to find where I live. You're probably going to plant something and trigger it when you're round the corner. Wipe out the eyewitness. That's what you lot do." I tried to use my height to my advantage and took a firm stance.

"But you don't believe any of that," she replied. "You want to assume I'm an enemy because that's what you're taught. Anything dangerous is bad. I freely admit that I may be dangerous, but that doesn't make me your enemy. On the contrary, I'm probably your best defence."

I stared at her, again wondering at how this woman managed to sound so reasonable about something so insane.

"Plus you're curious," she added. "And, for better or for worse, curiosity beats fear any day."

I pretended to think it over, already knowing she was right. "Okay," I said. "But you're explaining everything that happened last night."

She laughed. "Anything for a cup of tea." She breezed past me and began walking through different rooms. "Nice place you got. Just you?"

I followed her awkwardly. "Yeah. Uh, I guess I'll put the kettle on."

As I went through the familiar motions I thought wildly, _I'm making tea for the person that blew up my job. What is wrong with me?_

"So if you're not a terrorist, what are you?" I could hear her rustling around in the sitting room. "Some sort of secret government organisation? Was Harrods like an underground base for a drug lord?"

Her head popped around the corner. "Where's your mobile?"

"What?"

"The one you were brandishing at me yesterday, where is it?"

"Why do you need my mobile?"

"I think that's what I picked up on my sort-of scanner. It's weak but it's definitely the same kind of signal."

I motioned vaguely with my arm. "It should be in there somewhere."

"Oh, right," she said and disappeared. "Two sugars," she called.

"Yes, dear," I mumbled. A sharp crack from the sitting room made me jump, and hot tea sloshed over my hand. "What the hell is going on?"

I turned into the room to see her poking her strange tool into the innards of my former mobile. "What-"

"The mobile," she said, sounding distracted and excited, "it was acting as a secondary transmitter. Like a relay. It was close enough to get caught up in the signal, and if I can just...there!" The phone lit up and started emitting a steady beep, like a radar scanner. "Perfect."

She held up the mobile and turned in a slow circle, while the beeping increased in intensity. She stopped when the beep became a continuous tone and looked at me. "What direction is that?"

I shrugged. "South?"

"Towards the river. It's a start." She pocketed the mobile and the tool and turned to leave. "Thanks for the tea. I'm sure it would have been delicious," she called.

"No, wait!" I caught her at the door. "This is the second time you've swanned off after doing something crazy to me. I want some answers."

"As long as you can listen while you walk. C'mon." She headed down the stairs.

I was once again walking beside a charming and pretty girl with absolutely nothing intelligent to say. "You don't seem to be afraid of the police."

"Oh, come on, you can do better than that," she chided.

I felt like I was being tested. "Why are you called the Doctor? What's your real name?"

"That's more like it. The Doctor is my real name, at least it's the one I use and that everybody knows me by. Which might explain all the confusion. Huh."

We walked along the quiet street, getting closer to town. 2 o'clock on a Wednesday meant that people were at work or slowly moving through the shops, leaving the street to us. "So if you're not a terrorist, and you're not working for the government undercover, who are you with?" She didn't answer, and I turned to see that she had fallen behind. She was looking at her reflection in a shop window, stroking her hair and examining her face critically. I walked back to her.

"Never been blonde before," she muttered. "And big teeth. But I think they suit, don't you? Hmm. Used to have lovely brown curls last time..."

"What are you going on about?" I asked.

"What? Oh, I like to...change. My looks. Quite a lot. What do you think?"

I sighed. "You look lovely," I said, and felt a bit odd when she beamed at me. "Now can we get on?"

She stepped out and set a brisk pace. "Back to business then. And no, I'm not with any organization. I told you last night. I'm the only one left."

"That doesn't make any sense," I said. "You talk like you're some lone gunman, the only sane man in a world full of crazy. It's like you think you're Batman!"

She stopped and looked at me seriously. I was struck by how mature and sombre her eyes were; she didn't look older than 22. "I am the lone gunman. The last line of defence. Those dummies last night? That wasn't a prank. Those were enemies of the human race. They want to wipe you out and make themselves the dominant species. And I'm the only one who both knows about and can stop them."

I paused. This wasn't crazy paranoid ranting; she was dead serious. "You make it sound like...they're not from here."

"Aliens."

"Yeah."

"Still want answers?"

I breathed slowly, watching this young woman who so violently invaded my life. "Yeah. I want to know. How do you plan to stop alien shop window dummies?"

She smiled and looped her arm through mine. "I knew you weren't like other people. You're just what I need."

"Fantastic," I muttered, not certain whether I was glad or worried at that distinction.

We walked in silence for three streets, arms still linked. I glanced down and saw that she had a faint frown of concentration. "Something wrong?" I asked.

"Well..." she started.

"Look, you said 'aliens' and I'm still here. What else are you going to throw at me? Werewolves?"

She looked up, startled, and said, "No, not werewolves. That's in the advanced course. It's just...well, you'll see. It's right up there." She pointed up ahead and I had to look for a minute before I noticed anything.

"You mean that blue shed?"

"Oi! It's not a shed! That police box is the best piece of technology in the universe, so show some respect."

We walked up to it and it indeed had Police Public Call Box stamped on it. It was blue, a bit battered, and looked so out of place that I wondered how I didn't see it before.

"Well?" she said again, this time in a tone of incredible pride.

"It's, um, it's a very nice police box. Do you keep your equipment in it?" I tried to ask politely.

She rolled her eyes in response. "Idiot," I heard her mutter. She pulled out a key and unlocked the narrow door. "Come on in," she said and disappeared inside.

I blinked. Seriously? Who goes into a shed with someone like that? Cursing the probability that I would end up identified only as John Doe in tomorrow's newspaper, I stepped inside.

* * *

><p><em>tbc<em>


	3. Chapter 3

_About a year a ago, I was given a prompt about the Doctor being the companion and the companion being the Doctor. I wrote a short scene, then decided it needed to be fleshed out. Here is the result._

* * *

><p>I stopped.<p>

I stared.

I backed up.

I could see the outside of the box, barely four feet across, at the same time I could see the woman smiling at me from a room bigger than my flat. She beckoned me forward. "Come on, it's safe."

I walked back inside and up the ramp a little ways. Colours of bruised green and bored blue sulked in the corners, but the centre was dominated by yellows and oranges, colours that welcomed and invited. It reminded me of when I was backpacking through Europe and I wandered across a Byzantine church. Saints, angels, and apostles covered the walls and ceiling, and the sight of all those watching eyes filled me with the same kind of terror-struck awe that this machine did.

For it was clearly a machine. From the centre rose a tall column surrounded by a hodgepodge of gadgetry. I could hear a strange buzz like that of generators in the background. I realized that I was hardly breathing.

"Welcome to the TARDIS," the woman said. "Could you get the door, if you don't mind?"

I stumbled out of my daze and closed the door, feeling the ordinary wood under my hand. "TARDIS?"

Her voice came from very close by. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space. You alright?"

I turned towards her. "Yeah, of course. I mean, it's just bigger on the inside, defying all laws of physics, but who hasn't seen that? They always mention that in adverts for compact cars, don't they? Roomier than it looks and all sorts."

"You're babbling," she pointed out.

"Aliens," I breathed, "you fight aliens with something alien. How'd you get this?"

She shrugged. "I was a local where they built it."

I groaned and sank to the floor. "Oh, God. You're alien too. I knew it was too good to be true."

She crouched in front of me. "Is that alright?"

I looked up. Her face was a foot away from mine and filled with concern. Human-yet-not eyes watched me closely. "Yeah. Yeah, it's alright." I braced myself against the door and stood on shaky legs, waving off her offered hand. With a last uncertain look back at me, she went up to the column.

Slowly, I followed her. I saw that the column was a sort of control centre, like the bridge of a ship. She moved around it, pulling levers and switches. It was clear she knew every inch of that centre by the way her fingers trailed over it. She came to a port and pulled out the remains of my mobile from her pocket. It was then attached by a series of wires to the control centre.

I looked more closely around me. Curving struts rose out of the grating and supported the circular walls. It was a beautiful mixture of organic structures blending with functional machinery. Any architect would be envious of its builder's skill.

I leaned against one of the struts and asked, "What else is there to know about it?" At her glance I shrugged in turn. "I'm an electrician. I like knowing how things work."

"I always prefer showing rather than telling. Hold on to something," she said and flipped a switch.

I was instantly jolted away from the strut. I lurched forward and held on to the railing while she whooped in delight. "What the hell is happening?" I yelled over the noise of the column grinding itself to pieces. She only laughed in return.

The shaking stopped as suddenly as it started. "What was that?" I asked.

"Look outside," she said as she bounced past. She threw open the door and waited for me. I joined her and blinked as sunlight off the river blinded me. The river. I looked up and down the street and saw that we were at least six kilometres away from where we started. "How...?"

"It teleports," she stage-whispered in my ear.

I jumped away from her like I had been electrified. "Okay, hold on for a moment. I have to stop and take this all in. You need to explain over a coffee or a drink, preferably a drink, because right now, this is too much. Living dummies and bombs and boxes and aliens everywhere! I need to think about this." I had stepped away from her and knew I looked crazier than I ever thought she was.

"John," she said slowly, as if she was calming an animal, "you can handle this. Trust me."

"I'm just an electrician," I said helplessly.

"No you're not." I focused on her gentle smile instead of her disconcerting eyes. "If you were just an electrician you wouldn't have followed me this far. Come on." She held out her hand.

I breathed slowly, allowing my mind to accept what my gut had already decided. I didn't say anything, just took her hand. She beamed like I'd saved her heart from being broken. It made me slightly uncomfortable. We started walking.

She pulled out her strange blinking device and began pointing it at various objects we passed.

"So what are we looking for?" I finally asked.

"Something big," she answered.

"Glad I got that cleared up."

"Remember those signals from your mobile? Something had to broadcast them. And to get as far as it's reaching, it needs something powerful."

"Like what?"

She was focused on her device. "Something tall. Maybe round, like a satellite dish." She shook the device in frustration. "C'mon! Quit being so difficult. I know it's around here somewhere, but I can't pinpoint it."

I looked across the river. "Like Big Ben?"

She turned and rolled her eyes at me. "Big Ben? Is that the best you can do? Aliens would never go for something so ostentatious. Think, John, think!"

"It's London! Everything is ostentatious. Why do you think they call it Piccadilly Circus?" I nearly walked into her, she had stopped so suddenly. She was finally looking away from her device and towards something downriver. "Are you kidding me?" I said, following her gaze.

"It's perfect," she replied. Her smile outshone all the sights London had put together.

* * *

><p><em>tbc<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_About a year a ago, I was given a prompt about the Doctor being the companion and the companion being the Doctor. I wrote a short scene, then decided it needed to be fleshed out. Here is the result._

* * *

><p>"Big Ben wasn't low-key enough, but this is fine?" I asked as we walked under it. The white structure towered above us, while a calming female voice emerged from the pods along with sightseers.<p>

The Doctor pointed her device at it. "It makes sense. It's newer than Westminster, so it doesn't interfere as much with the structures below it." She walked past the crowds and towards a small maintenance building.

"Below?" I said as I caught up to her.

"The Eye is only the transmitter; the real power comes from beneath. So," she said as she buzzed open the door, "we go down." She disappeared through the opening.

I glanced around, but no one was watching. I steeled myself and followed her in. She led me down several flights of stairs and didn't speak. Her abrupt change of attitude worried me, and I finally spoke up. "Is everything okay?"

"It's the plastic," she answered.

"The dummies from last night?"

"Not just them. Think about it, John. If something was controlling those dummies, what if it controlled all of them?"

"Oh."

She scoffed. "Yeah, 'oh.' I've seen stuff like this before. The dummies are easy 'cause they already have a humanoid shape, something that can move around. But it can spread. The controller will move on from shop dummies to other plastics. What if your rubbish bin suddenly came alive, eh? Or your telephone cord. If we don't find the source of this, all the plastic in the world will be under its domain."

I slowed as I thought this over. A worldwide invasion, using a material as ubiquitous as plastic for its soldiers. It would hardly be a fair fight; it wouldn't be a fight at all. I also realized that our mission, such as it was, was for the defence of everyone, not just stopping another department store prank.

"John?"

The Doctor called from the bottom of the stairs. She looked anxiously up at me. "It should be just up ahead."

I walked slowly down to her. "We're the only ones that know about this," I said, "the only ones who can stop it. The last line of defence."

"More like the first. Or only. Doesn't matter, really."

"This is so much bigger than us," I said, still in a daze.

She pulled something out of her pocket. "This might level the playing field a bit." She held up a test tube full of thick blue liquid and grinned. "Anti-plastic."

I stared at her, completely amazed. "What else you got in that jacket of yours?" She only shrugged and stuck the tube back in.

We walked until we found a locked door. The Doctor buzzed it with her device and frowned. "It's just through here. You sure you want to come? It might be dangerous," she said.

I thought about all I had seen and heard since I met her, and knew that this was my last chance to walk away. I could go back to my normal life, find a new job, and continue ordering take-aways instead of cooking real food. I could clean my jacket, still smelling faintly of smoke, and buy a new mobile to replace the one she had modified. I could keep making tea in the same mug over and over.

"I can hardly let you face it alone, can I?" I said. "Lead on."

She gave me a small smile, nothing like the blinding grins she usually had, but it was disarming nonetheless. She nodded, and opened the door.

I noticed the heat first, followed by the stench. Wet, humid air filled with the smell of burning plastic made me double up in a coughing fit while the Doctor seemed unaffected. It was an ugly room, one in which the builders stuck all the bits they knew they needed but didn't want anyone to see. We ducked pipes and walked on metal grating towards an enormous pit several floors below us. Something was bubbling in it.

The Doctor walked to the edge of a platform and addressed the pit. "I am the Doctor, and you have invaded a Level 5 planet. I suggest you leave immediately without any casualties."

I wondered how the hell she was going to accomplish that. She was one woman faced with an enemy that controlled the materials around it. And she wanted to use diplomacy? I started to murmur, "Doctor, I'm not sure that-" but she cut me off with a shake of her head.

"Am I, or am I not addressing the Nestene Consciousness responsible for this invasion? Answer me!" she shouted.

The thick liquid in the pit twisted into something resembling a mouth and spoke. It was a horrifying, offensive noise, like the tearing of wood under a buzz saw and the whine of a generator. I didn't understand it, and for that I was thankful. The sound was so unsettling I backed away as far as possible, until I hit a wall. I watched the Doctor as she responded to the shrieking.

"Pity doesn't work on me," she said. Her voice was cold and flat, and nearly as unsettling as the thing in the pit. It quieted immediately. "It's no use telling me about your reasons. I already know how much you lost. I know better than anybody, remember? I was there, on the front lines!"

"Doctor, we should go. Throw that stuff in and let's get out," I hissed.

She turned her gaze on me, and I felt small and helpless. It was such an odd look, like someone watching an insect and knowing that they could destroy or spare it with a simple movement. _You are tiny,_ her gaze told me. _I can see the whole of you and all that you are a part of and you are still tiny._ I suddenly understood why such vast and powerful creatures would cower before this one small woman.

The shrieking was now sounding desperate. "That doesn't give you any right to destroy another planet," the Doctor answered. "But I can help. I can find you somewhere else to live, somewhere safe."

I caught movement in the corner of my eye. "Doctor!" I called out but too late. Two dummies had come forward and grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides while ignoring me. One dummy rifled through her pockets and produced the tube of anti-plastic. The shrieking increased.

"No, it's not like that!" she said. "It was just insurance; I wasn't going to use it!" She stopped struggling and frowned. "What weapon?"

Two more dummies appeared on our left and slid open a door. Behind it stood the TARDIS. "You don't understand," the Doctor said, turning back to the pit, "it's not a weapon. It's more advanced technology; you only think it's dangerous because you can't understand it!"

I knew it was the wrong thing to say. The shrieking rattled my head, seemed to rattle the building. The dummies held the Doctor fast, despite her struggles. I was useless. Our weapons had been taken, our position was powerless. The dummies must have triggered something, because an explosion rocked the building and I fell to my knees. The Doctor staggered but the dummies held her up, unaffected by the chaos. Fire erupted to our right, blocking our only exit. I felt like I was in Hell.

The Doctor twisted her head back to look at me. She had realized the same thing I had, that we were both going to die here.

_No job,_ I thought. I stood up.

_No relationship._ I saw the dummy still holding the anti-plastic vial.

_No life._ I braced myself.

"But I do have four years of school rugby behind me," I said, and rushed the dummy. I hit it with enough force to lift it off the ground and let go of the Doctor. My momentum carried it to the edge of the platform, where it fell squarely in the pit with the creature. The Doctor, one arm freed, was able to twist away from the other and kick it over the edge. "Nice one, John," she said. "Now run."

"Agreed," I replied, and we both bolted for the TARDIS.

* * *

><p><em>tbc<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_About a year a ago, I was given a prompt about the Doctor being the companion and the companion being the Doctor. I wrote a short scene, then decided it needed to be fleshed out. Here is the result._

* * *

><p>We landed with a bump, and I walked outside to see that we were in an empty warehouse. Natural light filtered in through a dirty window, lifting the gloom slightly. I walked away from the alien ship and leaned against the wall of the building. I felt sick.<p>

The Doctor poked her head out of the ship. "Good news!" she said. "The Autons are gone! No sign of that transmission signal anyway in London."

"Autons?"

"Yeah, that's what they're called. Sorry, did I not mention that? Must have slipped my mind."

"Too busy getting rescued by me, I imagine," I said.

She looked thoughtful at that. "You're right. I would have died in there if it hadn't been for you. Thank you."

I nodded acknowledgment, too overwhelmed to respond properly. "So what now?" I asked instead.

She was inspecting the outside of her ship. "Mm? What do you mean?"

"Me. Do I get dropped off in a farmer's field somewhere? Mind wiped?"

The Doctor looked startled. "Why on earth would I do that?"

I shrugged. "I know about aliens, and you. I could plaster it all over the internet."

"And who would believe you?" she laughed. The ship was fit enough for her satisfaction, and she leaned on the door, mimicking my crossed arms. She smiled. "I have another idea," she said. I braced myself. "You could come with me."

"Where?"

She pointed to the ceiling. "Out there."

"Is it always this dangerous?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said without hesitation.

I had already made one decision to stay with her, and followed her below London to the nightmare waiting for us. I had felt death and fear and confusion. My entire world changed in two days. My head hurt and my heart pounded.

"No," I said. "I can't."

She didn't look shocked or sad, she just nodded her head, losing her smile. "Right then," she said, and stepped into the ship. The engine noise started again, louder than it was when I was standing inside, and a strong wind picked up. Debris flew everywhere, and I turned to shield my eyes. When I looked back the ship was gone.

I felt like I had said no to a million pounds. I knew the words were wrong even as I said them, and I remembered what the Doctor had said to me earlier. _Curiosity beats fear any day._ Maybe this was for the best. I could try to improve my life; I could get more training and a different job, I could go out with coworkers and meet women, I could make more than one cup of tea at a time. And still have seeds of regret.

I had resigned myself to a dull life when the wind returned and the engine noise echoed around the warehouse. The TARDIS was reappearing. Its ghostly image became more solid as I watched in amazement. A beautiful blonde head stuck itself outside the door and said, "Did I mention it also travels in time?"

I didn't need to think twice.

* * *

><p><em>end<em>


End file.
